Pretending Everything's Okay
by cherrygurl1225
Summary: It's easy to pretend everything's okay. Tru/Jack, Carrie/Jack. Written for my hc bingo prompt "hiding an injury/illness."


**Tru Calling: Pretending Everything's Okay**

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**Author's Note: **Written for my incredibly talented friend and fellow writer of _Tru Calling _fanfiction **AmethystB. **This story is in part a fanfic prompt she gave me, a Tru/Jack fic using lyrics from the song "Image of You" by Red Snapper, and part of an idea that I've been mulling over in my head for awhile. Another song that inspired this fic is "Are You Happy Now?" by Cassadee Pope (Michelle Branch cover). Both songs are utilized in this fic.

Also, this fic is a fill for my **hc_bingo prompt** "hiding an injury/illness."

Additionally, the park setting is inspired by my recent visit to Vancouver, British Columbia. Seeing Stanley Park, particularly Hallelujah Point, one of the many filming locations used in _Tru Calling,_ was the initial inspiration for this fic, which has evolved since then. I love the idea of playing with juxtaposed relationships, relationships of danger and jealousy versus forbidden/blossoming love and hopefully it comes across. Enjoy!

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Darkness descends upon the city as the bright sun slips below the horizon. The body of water stretched out in front of him sparkles an incandescent blue as the moon takes the sun's place in the sky.

He waits in the blackness, both hands wrapped around a to-go cup.

Turning his wrist slightly, he checks his watch, his face a weary mask of fatigue as he tries not to spill the steaming hot contents. He grips tightly, the warmth an inviting welcome from the hellacious rewind day he'd endured.

Funny how the simple pleasures of a piping hot drink can take the edge off, even on the most stressful of recent rewinds.

_9:00. _

She sits on the park bench beside him without warning of her presence, jacket tightly enveloping her skeletal frame, as she slips her purse off of her shoulder. Her brown eyes, hallowed out by exhaustion, land on the drink yet she remains silent until he offers it to her.

"Pumpkin spice," Jack Harper answers, the lingering question reflecting in her eyes, though her lips do not move, voice silenced by the intimacy of the shared moment.

Somewhere – _this sanctuary_ – is for them. The promise of safety dances around him like a phantom without place, but only when darkness falls.

Only now. For her.

With her.

**Now, don't just walk away  
Pretending everything's okay and you don't care about me**

Their fingers brush against each other as Tru Davies accepts the caffeinated offering from him in silent gratitude. She takes a sip, savoring the warmth as it infuses through her body before leaning back against the park bench, inhaling renewed breaths of life into her overworked lungs.

"Nick and I came here," she says quietly after several moments of prolonged silence. "He almost kissed me. Of course that was before he..."

Her voice trails off, tired eyes meeting Jack's crystalline blues.

"The firefighter?"

Tru nods silently, the unwelcome weight of failure suddenly crashing against her already aching shoulders.

"There was also a little girl… Samantha… I saved her that day… so why couldn't I… why today… that little girl didn't deserve to die today. She shouldn't have died. I should have…"

"_We_ should have," Jack finishes, placing his hand on Tru's thigh and letting it rest there. Tru carefully places one of her hands on top of his in acknowledgement of his attempt at comfort. Tears fall down her cheeks as she gazes at him questioningly, longingly.

Moving his hand from underneath hers, he lifts it, brushing tears from her makeup smeared cheeks with an unspoken gentleness. Another gesture of comfort.

"Why today?" she asks, once she's regained enough composure to speak again. "Why did you help me today?"

"We rewound four times."

"That's not what I asked," she presses. "You could have made sure she died again. What changed?"

"It felt wrong," he admits. "It felt wrong to make sure she died again. Jensen murdered a child. A member of his own family. Why should I be an advocate for death when it comes to someone so… _innocent_?"

Silently taking in his words, she processes a striking realization.

Carrying the burden of Death – of ending lives – is just as harrowing, tiresome and demanding as upholding the flickering torch of Life.

Of saving lives.

"Jensen… he's… he's changed."

"You and I both know it's more than that," Jack replies. "It's only going to get worse from here. He's already threatened you… hasn't he?"

He searches her eyes for an answer that remains veiled underneath denial, locked in the invisible safe of her beating heart.

She sets her coffee down beside her.

"Just threatened," she lies. "He's never touched me. Only yelled at me a few times. He's become a lot more verbally abusive lately."

She swallows uneasily, bile rising in her throat as she shifts uneasily on the park bench, the bruises, scratches and blood that mar the skin covering her back serve as an indelible reminder of the physical pain Jensen had inflicted upon her.

It's easy to hide physical pain. It's easy to pretend everything's okay. At least physically.

But emotional pain creeps through her tough veneer when she least expects it, showcasing momentary remnants of vulnerability.

How long could she perpetuate this lie? Suspend the truth from the one person who understands her better than anyone else?

**And I know it's just no use  
When all your lies become your truths **

"And you're going to keep allowing him to live?"

It's not an accusation. Maybe at one time it could've been, but now it's a question of concern. Tru had willingly taken a risk by allowing Jensen to live. Now she's caught in a tangled web, an intricately woven and manipulated relationship of danger.

"I can't live like this anymore," she declares, a quiet assertion suspended in the air around them. "Help me, Jack."

She stares at him, eyes pleading.

**Could you look me in the eye  
And tell me that you're happy now  
Would you tell it to my face or have I been erased  
Are you happy now?**

He presses his lips to her forehead without question.

"I was afraid you wouldn't ask," he replies, trailing his fingers along her arm and tracing an unseen pattern. "I'll do whatever I need to do to keep you safe."

"There are some things you can't protect me from."

"I know," he murmurs. "But it's not going to stop me from trying."

A flicker of a smile creases her lips upon hearing the familiar echo of words she told him long ago. Now, however, the boundaries were too intertwined with one another for her to object or him to press forward with the argument.

"I'm so tired," she whispers, her head falling against his shoulder.

"Sleep," he gently encourages. "I'll wake you in a few minutes."

Relishing this sacred moment with him, she lets her eyes drift closed, slipping quickly into a light and much-needed dreamless sleep.

He watches the sleeping woman with protective diligence, absentmindedly running his fingers through her hair.

Nearly a half an hour later, he wakes her gently.

Her eyes flutter open and she sits up.

"What time is it?"

"After 10 o'clock," he tells her. "We should go. I can walk you to your car if you-…"

"No, I'll be okay on my own." When Jack's face morphs into an expression of alarm, she quickly adds, "I have pepper spray in my purse."

The two part with few spoken words yet endless unspoken words between them, each heading in the opposite direction.

Several feet away and hidden by a large tree, the domineering figure of Carrie Allen watches the forbidden pair.

When they finally go their separate ways, her lips curve into a venomous smile.

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As Tru walks into her apartment, Jensen emerges from the shadows, an eerie glow lighting his eyes ablaze with suspicion and curiosity.

"Jensen…" she whispers breathlessly. "Why are you-…"

"I've been waiting for you," he responds with an uneasy calmness. "I still have the spare key you gave me months ago."

"Oh… right."

"You look exhausted," Jensen says, a hypnotic tone lacing his voice. "Why don't you come to bed?"

"I…" she falters. She wants to tell him to leave, but the way he's looking at her, talking to her… She can't resist his enticing temptation.

He moves forward, slipping her purse from her shoulder and letting it fall to the floor. Leaning in, he kisses her deeply, a dangerous intoxication bubbling inside of her as she eventually gives in and urges him to deepen the kiss.

His hands roam along her body, ravenous with desire and want as they skim across the sensitive parts of her neck and down to her breasts before finally finding her hand, tugging urgently.

Breaking the kiss, his baby blue eyes bore into her dark brown ones as he pulls her forward and in the direction of her bedroom.

"Come on," he whispers with irresistible toxicity.

She follows him wordlessly, where darkness envelops them in a cloaked embrace rampant with imminent danger.

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Persistent knocking pulls Jack out of his not-quite-asleep yet state. Sighing, he scrubs his hand over his face, sleep still threatening to overtake him.

He makes his way to his front door, feet trudging clumsily. He opens it, revealing Carrie, skin-tight black dress accentuating her curves and ruby red lipstick bright and overpowering on her lips as they form a knowing smile.

"Carrie, you do know what time it is, don't you?"

"Does it look like I care?" she retorts venomously, her dark eyes raking over his body with intrigue.

**The envy, the hate  
All we've been through  
Just so you'll see  
An image of you**

"Well," she says after a moment of him just staring at her. "Aren't you going to invite me in?"

Jack sighs, tiredness gradually beginning to fade knowing that he needs to be alert while in her presence. To the best of his abilities anyway.

"What is this about, Carrie?"

"I saw you," she emphasizes each word carefully. "I saw you and Tru at the park earlier today. You two were looking quite… cozy."

"And I find it ever so reassuring that you spy on me." His biting sarcasm isn't lost on her. "Is that all?"

"One more thing," she tells him, a maelstrom of untamed jealousy rising within her as she steps past the threshold of his door and seals her lips to his.

**You've taken from me  
To satisfy your greed**

The front door slams shut only a few seconds later and it isn't until she's finally deep inside of him with her breasts rubbing sensually against his bare chest and his fingers raking through her black curls – reaching an irresistible climax together – that he can allow himself to temporarily forget about Tru Davies.

_Fin. _


End file.
